


What We Become

by accio_broom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M, Inferi (Harry Potter), Inspired by The Walking Dead, Major Character Undeath, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_broom/pseuds/accio_broom
Summary: IWSC: A Voldemort wins AU. The battle against the Dark Lord continues, and Hermione is the face of the rebellion. When a mission to recruit new survivors doesn't go to plan, Hermione and Ron are left to deal with the surprising outcome.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 18
Kudos: 20
Collections: International Wizarding School Competition - Ilvermorny





	What We Become

**Author's Note:**

> Story Title/Link: What We Become  
> School and Theme: Ilvermorny: Corruption  
> Mandatory Prompt: [Event] Recruitment  
> Additional Prompt(s): [Plot Point] Forbidden Romance
> 
> AN: This is a Voldemort Wins Alternate Universe, inspired by The Walking Dead TV series.  
> TW - Major character death, zombies, some swears.

Two shadows dance from tree to tree, using the darkness to shield their movements from the moonlight. It’s been a while since they were last this close to the wall, yet they find their way around the boundary as if it were only yesterday.

It is too dangerous—being this close to the City and everything the wall protects—but it is a risk they need to take.

“I have to stop!”

The smaller of the two shadows braces herself against the nearest tree. She presses her hand into her side to relieve the stitch growing there as she concentrates on taking deep breaths. Her heart is thumping in her chest, and she realises how out of shape she’s gotten since she first received the news.

“I knew you shouldn’t have come. You should have stayed at camp!”

The man is a head taller than her. He pushes his fiery, red hair out of his eyes. There is a permanent layer of dirt hiding his beautiful freckles, and she feels a small pang of loss pull at her heart.

“No.” Hermione shakes her head and stands up straight, although it takes tremendous effort. “I’m fine, Ron, I promise. I need to be here. I’m the face of the rebellion, after all.”

She pulls a face. She doesn’t want the title; she doesn’t think she deserves it. Yet, it is used at every opportunity in their fight against evil.

“Who the hell builds an obsidian wall all the way around London anyway?” Ron chuckles nervously.

“The same person who wrote a law declaring people like me shouldn’t marry, or work, or have children. The same evil wizard who cast me out of society.  _ Voldemort _ .” 

Life is difficult for them now, ever since Hagrid carried Harry’s limp and lifeless body out of the Forbidden Forest. Tom Riddle had declared himself the winner of the Battle of Hogwarts, and the changes quickly came.

Hermione reaches for the flask in her rucksack, the stretch of her body giving Ron a glimpse of her growing bump. Before she can strain herself, he takes it out for her, removing the lid and passing her the bottle.

She takes a sip of the water, using the pause to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Since they’d found out about the baby, he’d grown more overprotective of her than usual.

“Don’t do that!” He whispers with a lop-sided grin that sets her pulse racing. “I saw that twitch in your eye.”

“I can get my own water bottle,” she scolds.

“I know you can, but I need a drink too. I didn’t bring my own.” He holds his hand out hesitantly, knowing precisely what’s coming next.

“You didn’t—” Hermione interrupts herself with a sigh,

She can’t argue with him now, however much she enjoys it. They have a mission; they need to get to the survivor’s camp before the sun comes up or they’re spotted. 

Ron shrugs at her as he swigs from the bottle, an innocent smile on his lips. The playful glint in his eyes calms her, quelling any frustration she feels about his carelessness. Despite their immediate peril, it feels good to be out on a mission with him again.

“Don’t drink it all. Put it back, and then we can get going.”

He does as he’s told, then slides a hand to her tiny belly. She’s not that far along, only eighteen weeks by their best guess and barely showing, but she can’t stop the smile that crosses her face, even though if they were discovered, it would mean a fate worse than death.

A snarl distracts Ron and Hermione from their argument, and they turn their heads at the same time to watch the lone Inferi as it stumbles towards them.

Its arms stretch out in a weak attempt to catch its prey. Its eyes are clouded over, blinded by the curse, and both legs are covered in deep gashes. 

“Don’t even think about it, Hermione,” Ron sighs and unsheaths a dagger from his belt.

He creeps towards their new friend, talking to it so that it focuses on him instead of her. They can no longer use magic like they used to—they could easily be traced. He grabs the Inferi by the shoulder then quickly slips his blade into the front of its head, ensuring it embeds in the brain.

After a while, you get used to the screech of metal grinding against bone.

Once it’s stopped, he sets fire to the Inferi’s body using the small amount of petrol and the matches they always carry with them.

Ron wipes the blade on his cargo pants and then turns back to Hermione to check on her. 

The smell of decay fills her nose, and she fights the urge to throw up. Ron would surely send her home if he thought her nausea might be back. It was one of the terms she had to agree with before he let her come.

\---

Hermione pulled the metal gate across the entrance to their stronghold as soon as Bill and Ron were safely inside.

Once she was satisfied that it was locked tight, she reached for Ron, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him tenderly. She always missed him when he wasn’t there. She used to be allowed to go scavenging with him, but he’d put a ban on that when they’d found out about the baby.

They want to keep their secret to themselves for as long as possible to keep Hermione protected. So, for now, they pretended she was injured.

“I missed you. A week is far too long!”

“Well, I brought you a present to make up for it.” Ron untangled himself from her and stalked to the heart of the camp.

He rolled out a map and placed it on the table under the shelter they’d made from salvaged iron.

“We found new survivors,” he said.

“I thought we’d recruited them all?”

The rest of the rebellion crowded around them, and Hermione heard curious questions, whispers and murmurs from the camp.

“Yeah, well, the Inferius have pretty much taken over the whole of Epping Forest now.” Bill ran his hand through his hair. “You’ve got to hand it to Voldemort. Murdering Muggles and turning them into a personal army of the undead, then letting them rampage across the country has done more damage than any of his Death-Eaters could.”

“Eet is eezy to do zat when you are hiding behind ze wall, I theenk!” Fleur fussed over her husband, and Hermione tried to ignore the surge of jealousy.

It was easy for them to be together, and it was unfair that Hermione and Ron had it so hard under Voldemort’s new regime. 

“It’s under the wall,” Ron stated, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.

Rage filled her heart, making it pound so ferociously, she could hear it in her ears. She tried her best to keep her face neutral.

_ How dare he put himself in that much danger? _ “You shouldn’t have been that far away from our camp, Ron.”

He ignored her, which only further fuelled her quiet anger.

She bit her inner cheek, the taste of copper distracting her momentarily as she watched him mark out the camp location with a red pen.

“I think we should try and get there quickly. Recruit the group, set up communications and then get out of there fast. It looks like it’s a big encampment, but hidden from the viewpoint of the wall. They’d be a useful ally.”

“I’ll go.”

Hermione wasn’t sure if she was just feeling reckless after being camp-bound for the past few weeks or if she said it out of spite of Ron, who had put himself in danger without her knowledge.

“No!” Ron slammed his fist down on the table. “You’re not to leave the compound. You know that!”

“Now, hold on, son,” Arthur interjected, holding his hand up in protest. “You know Hermione is the best person for recruitment missions.”

The fact that she had survived for so long, despite Voldermort’s best attempts to eradicate her, was treated as a sign of hope through the rebellion.

“But that close to the wall? She can’t!”

Hermione sighed. She knew why he resisted, but she refused to let him treat her like an invalid. Her hands gravitated to her hips as she took up a defensive position. 

“Well, was the area safe? Were there any hordes nearby?”

“No. We cleared the area.” Ron crossed his arms across his chest. “That still doesn’t mean you should go.”

She shrugged but held his gaze steady in an act of defiance. She knew he would be annoyed with her, but she was still one of the group’s leaders, and as  _ the face of the rebellion _ , what she said and did still held a lot of weight.

“Then I’m going with you.”

\---

Ron and Hermione want to hold hands as they make their way towards the camp. Their fingers graze each other’s, but something stops them. They know they can’t.

The trees are starting to thin out, and the sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow through the forest. From the short distance, the settlement looks similar to theirs. There’s one exception; in a bold move, they are using the dark obsidian wall—which marks Tom Riddle’s territory—as part of their defences.

“They must have found a blind spot,” she muses quietly.

“It’s bloody genius.”

They’re hiding right under the Dark Lord’s missing nose, and it fills Hermione’s heart with an odd sense of joy. They’re just the right people to join the rebellion.

Before they get too close, Hermione stops and turns to Ron.

The sunrise turns his long hair a golden auburn colour, and the beauty of it takes her breath away. He needs it cut, but for now, it’s pulled back at the base of his neck. She reaches up, brushing a wayward strand off his forehead before trailing her hand down his face, enjoying the rasp of his beard as her fingers run through it.

“It’s places like this that make me miss Harry the most.” His words are barely a whisper, but she hears him.

“Me too.” Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, and she takes a steadying breath. “I know you don’t want me here, but I’m still the best person for the job. I loved him. I want to do right by him.”

Ron sighs and casts his eyes down at his feet. She wonders if he is fighting the same internal battle.

“I know. It doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, though.”

“Hey!” She waits until he lifts his face to look at her before giving him a watery smile. “I’m pregnant, not sick or injured. It’s just a bog-standard recruitment mission. Anyway, you’ll look after me.”

She doesn’t feel fear anymore, just the thrill of getting a chance to grow her army. She hopes that one day she will lead them to battle and overthrow Voldemort once and for all.

She yearns to avenge Harry.

“Just stay safe, Hermione. I know you think you’re in control, and you don’t want to let this baby stop you from fighting for what’s right. You’re important to  _ me _ , not just the rebellion.

“If we get captured, and they find out what we’ve been doing, there’s no way they’d keep you alive. We’re breaking every single one of  _ his _ laws.”

Hermione sees pain flash in Ron’s eyes as he slides his arms around her waist. The move makes her feel secure—as if they were back at Hogwarts and not living in a post-apocalyptic world full of Inferi and terror.

For a fleeting moment, Hermione longs for a normal life with him. There’s no hope in dreaming whilst Voldemort is still alive.

“It’s worth it, though.”

Ron chuckles. She won’t give in, and he knows that. He draws her in for a kiss, and she tries to push the idea out of her head that it might be their last chance.

She gives in to him, taking courage from his love.

They can survive this, just like they’ve survived every other challenge that has been thrown their way. Her heart pounds, they could get caught together, and then they’d be in trouble, but in the moment, she doesn’t care.

Eventually, Hermione pulls away, ignoring the tiny flutter in her stomach. Without another word, they make their way to the entrance of the camp.

“Wait!” She holds her arm to stop him quickly as a feeling of dread washes over her body. Her legs start to shake. “There’s no guard.”

Someone, or thing, has made it to the camp before them.

Hermione narrows her eyes. The gate is cast open, hanging eerily from one hinge, squeaking in the light breeze.

They search for further signs of a disturbance—an Inferius stumbles out, blood dripping from his disfigured jaw.

Now she's paying attention; she can hear the low rumble of the horde. “Oh, shit!” Her stomach lurches, and this time she can’t stop herself from being sick.

The waves of nausea cease, and she wipes her mouth with a hand. The taste of bile resides in her mouth, but before she has time to ask for the bottle, the first Inferius is followed by another.

Ron and Hermione share a look. They should leave, but their curiosity pulls them closer. They dispatch the two waiting Inferi quickly before turning into the wasted compound.

The horde isn’t large, but it’s easy to see how it overwhelmed the camp. But yet, there is hope. In the middle of the site, balancing on top of a rickety-looking shack stands a dark-haired man. He doesn’t look much older than them, and he’s brandishing his wand fiercely. The Inferi fall with every shout of  _ incendio _ .

This wizard isn’t scared to use magic.

“We need to save him,” Hermione pulls her wand out of its holster.

She’s relieved when Ron mirrors her action. Although they try not to use magic, the damage here is already done, and it is worth the risk if they can get to the man in time. 

Ron takes the lead, and Hermione follows with her back to him, her heart pounding as she throws curse after curse at the horde, slowly clearing a path to the middle.

The man notices and turns his attention towards his rescuers, incapacitating most of the braying horde with their help.

“Holy fuck!” Ron grabs Hermione and spins her around, putting her safely between himself and the man. 

Familiar green eyes stare down at them, blinking unbelievingly. But they don’t have time to question it.

“Hermione, grab him and go!” Ron clamps his wand between his teeth so he can help her climb onto the shack.

She gets there just in time as the man faints in exhaustion. Ron is soon by her side, helping her catch the survivor before he falls off his island. Her heart, already affected by the exertion of the fight, is pounding so hard, she fears the sound of it may attract more Inferi.

“Go! Now!” Ron’s voice sounds desperate.

A clear vision of their camp appears in her mind, and she feels the urgency to focus on it. Ignoring everything else, she fixes the image to the front of her brain before turning deliberately on the spot, the man firmly in her arms as she finally disapparates away from danger.

The ground appears suddenly, and Hermione collapses to it. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing apparating Hermione? What about the trace? You could have led him straight to us!” Bill has a hold of her top, shouting in her face.

Hermione gulps for air. She’s always hated apparition. “We… surrounded… no other way…”

Someone pulls Bill off her, and she immediately crawls across the ground towards the survivor. She needs to make sure of his identity before anyone else. She needs to be prepared.

Carefully, she rolls him onto his back and wipes the blood from his face. His glasses are missing, but the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead gives him away. She sits back on her haunches, a wail escaping her mouth.

Bill soon joins in, the noise a confusion of emotion. Ginny pushes Hermione aside and throws herself at the man.

Harry’s alive.

“He’s back!” The excited whispers of the waiting rebels cascade over her. If she hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t believe it.

Hermione moves away, needing her own space to breathe, but she struggles to escape. The sea of wellwishers threatens to drown her, and she begins to panic. A set of muscular arms grab her, pulling her to safety and finally, she is confronted by a pair of comforting blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” He searches her face, but she’s still shell shocked.

“It’s… It’s Harry!” She breaks down in sobs.

Hermione has tried so hard to stay strong for two years, but finally, she gets her chance to grieve.

They have questions, so many of them, but they have time to work things out before planning their next move. With Harry back, they have renewed hope. He can become the face of the rebellion now. Hermione, finally, can rest.

“Do you think we’ll be able to recruit him?” Ron’s eyes flit to the crowd before shifting back to Hermione, and she almost can’t believe he’s making a joke about it.

The lop-sided grin fills his face, and before she knows what’s happening, Ron’s lips are on hers. It’s such a small act—one that would be entirely normal for two young lovers but feels like the perfect act of rebellion against Voldemort’s new regime. The pure-blood with his mud-blood girlfriend and their soon to be half-blood child.

They still need more fighters. But, with Harry back beside them, they can win this war and give their baby a better life.


End file.
